


Runaway

by orphan_account



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Chaptered, Gaius is annoying, Gen, Grumpy!Merlin, Hungeover!Arthur, Hungover!Merlin, language learning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-01-19 15:12:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1474381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin doesn't listen to the prophecy and runs away to a land where magic is celebrated. Years later Merlin returns but what's happened to Camelot and all it's people in the time he's been away?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wake up Merlin

**Author's Note:**

> I have a few chapters tucked away to kudos and comments will let's me know if I should publish faster. I hope you like my story and thank you for reading.

 

Merlin hated waking up because waking up meant work. the fact that most day he was woken up to Gaius' shouting didn't help either. Surely Gaius knew yelling the day after someone was far into the cups is just unfair.  
“Merlin! Get up! You have to help me make a salve for Augustus, he fell into a patch of stinging nettles yesterday, I can’t reach the wormtail.” The fact that Gaius would wake him up earlier than usual just to get something he couldn't reach didn't help his mood either. He hauled himself out of bed and shuffled out of the door-glaring at the offensively bright light shining through the windows, it seemed the light this morning was being painful on purpose.  
That night he’d had to stay up into the small hours of the morning to help clean up after the summer festival. The feast had been massive and there weren’t too many people by the end who weren’t drunk including Merlin himself. In his own defence the goblet had been constantly filled by the over-zealous servers who had been called out from all over Camelot for the occasion. He remembered when he was fresh from Ealdor he’d thought Camelot was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and compared to the mud and pigs it was, but you get used to everything eventually.   
“Merlin, could you get the wormtail for me?”  
“Isn’t that the whole reason you woke me up?”  
“Of course and the fact that it’s nearly noon and Arthur will take even more waking up than you did, you remember how he was last night.” He had needed help getting to bed which Merlin had been in no position to do but in the way all drunk people manage to he woke up in his own bed none the worse. If you don't count his headache and his breath. Merlin had been reaching up to get the jar of wormtail as Gaius had said that particular piece of information and practically threw the jar at him in his rush to get out of the door.

He sprinted the whole way to the kitchens, the exasperated cook just handed him the platter-pointedly not commenting on his red face. He wheezed out a thank you and careered down the hall and up the stairs balancing the platter on one arm and shoving people out of the way with the other. He skidded to a halt and gently opened the door to find Arthur was already sat up in bed glaring at Merlin.  
“Sire, you’re awake.” He wasn’t surprised really, when you make as much noise as he does waking people up just by existing is normal.  
“Of course I am, I should suppose the whole castle is awake what with how much noise you were making. You sounded like a herd of cows running about.”  
“How do you know what a herd of cows sound like?” He smirked  
“I am a Prince of Camelot and a Prince knows about his future kingdom.”  
“I didn’t know Camelot was the cow kingdom.” Merlin set the platter on the table, pouring out the wine  
“Don’t be smart Merlin, it doesn’t become you.” Arthur walked over to the table yawning, he looked over at the window and frowned, even though Merlin hadn’t drawn the curtains he could tell it was mid-morning at least. “Merlin…”  
“Arthur, I’m sorry-I just-the festival.”  
Arthur surprisingly didn't fly into a rage a just smirked “You can make it up to me by cleaning out the stables, polishing my armour and then you can report to me so we can spar.”  
“Spar?” Merlin’s eyes widened  
“Well maybe spar is the wrong word, you’re just going to stand there while I hit you.”  
“Why do I have to do it? Surely you can get one of your knights to do it.”  
“You’re my manservant Merlin, it’s your job to do these sorts of things.”  
"No it isn't!"  
"I am the Prince, I get to decide what a Manservant does and does not do."  
Merlin scowled but backed down, his headache flaring up because of the yelling. The rest of the conversation went as you’d expect it to, needless to say Merlin had no fun cleaning the stables nor polishing the armour and he certainly wasn’t looking forward to the ‘spar’ either.  
As it turned out he was right to be worried, Arthur spent an hour and a half hitting him with his sword and yelling at him for not being able to defend himself. Merlin was a firm believer that everyone had their own talents, his, for instance was making an utter fool of himself and Arthur’s was for hitting things with a sword and making a fool of himself. He was multitalented that way.

He hobbled back to Gaius’ chambers grumbling and cursing Arthur and all his knights for making him join in with something he clearly wasn’t made for.  
“You look terrible Merlin.”  
“You always say the nicest things.” He growled under his breath as Gaius reached for a conveniently placed jar of foul-smelling ointment he remembered stirring till his arm was sore.

That night he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. That morning was much like the last in that Gaius yelling was first thing his conscious mind registered, except this time it was genuine panic tainting his voice.  
“MERLIN!” He bolted awake “Help me. We have a patient who needs urgent help.” He leapt up not even bothering to change out of his sleep shirt and ran out to see what was wrong. it turned out a boy no more than fourteen years old was being dragged in by what he could assume was his father, blood was pouring from a gash on his thigh and both the man and the child looked like they were going to faint.  
“Just put him on the table here.” Gaius gestured to the table he usually used to treat patients but which had scrolls and books strewn across it which Merlin hastily threw off onto the floor.  
“Is there anything I can do to help?” The man asked, looking from the boy to Gaius-he had an accent Merlin couldn't place.  
“Not as yet, though some fresh water wouldn’t go amiss.”  
The man rushed off as quickly as he could, almost slipping on scroll on his way out  
Merlin rolled his sleeves up to prepare for the task ahead of him.  
“Get the bandages and tie them above the wound.”  
The boy, who had been silent up until this point finally spoke “Will I live?” He grimaced in pain “It’s just my mother-she’s sick and I’m the only one who keeps the family going.”  
Merlin rolled the boy’s trouser leg up to clean the dirt out with a rag “Of course you…what’s your name?”  
“Caoimhín.”  
Gaius then walked over with a bottle in hand “So then...."  
"Just call me Tom, everyone here does."  
"Alright Tom I need you to stay as still as possible so we can but this ointment on your leg to clean it. Now, do you want me or Merlin here to do it?”  
Thomas looked at Merlin pleadingly “Can he do it?”  
Merlin smiled warmly “Of course I can, just stay still.”  
Merlin grabbed the bottle a dabbed a cloth with it before swiping it a quickly as he could across the red and inflamed wound. Tom grunted but otherwise made no sound. At that moment the man rushed in with the water panting.  
“We’re just finishing, the boy needs rest in bed for a least a week if not more and he definitely can’t work until he’s fully healed or he’ll make himself worse. Come see me again in two days so I can change the bandage. Merlin-let me bandage him, we can’t risk it coming loose.” Merlin patted Tom's arm and stepped away turning to look at Gaius who had the bandages in his hands.  
“Merlin, while I bandage the boy can you show George Druyaght to the kitchens, Tom will need some food to help him heal. And don’t worry there’s no money required.”  
“But you told me to get some water!” He squeaked  
“I’m sorry but you were very…excited. That wouldn’t have been good for Tom to see you so worried. By the time you came back we’d have been almost done.” He didn’t look placated by that but didn’t say anything either. So Merlin just grabbed his arm and steared him out of the door and into the corridor.


	2. Foreign Lands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This quite short but I wanted to get it up quick so enjoy-I'll get to working on chapter three!

As it turned out George was a nice enough man, different to what he was used to but not unpleasant and Merlin found him easy to talk to.  
“Gaius said you just arrived here? Where did you move from?”  
“Ireland, beautiful country.”  
“Country? You mean you come from a different country?” Merlin had never met someone who wasn’t from Camelot or the surrounding kingdoms and the thought that people came from that far away was odd.  
“Oh, you must’ve thought my hometown was a hop and a skip away, huh? I suppose the accent wouldn’t have clued you in.”  
“Uh, no, it didn't.”  
“You know I really should have asked the mage to get rid of that.” He muttered to himself as they turned into the courtyard  
“Mage?!” Merlin almost tripped over his own feet at the casual use of the word.  
“I keep forgetting you lot aren’t too fond of magic, I don’t see why myself but I’ve got no place to judge.”  
“But you said he could get rid of your accent.” He hoped that he’d get some answers out of him.  
“I never actually learnt Welsh, so the mage gave me a potion that let me become fluent.”  
“Wow…that’s amazing…”  
“I guess…I suppose it’s normal to me, huh?”  
“Are-are you magic?”  
“Oh no! I wouldn't have come here, if I was magic I would have never left Ireland! Best place for those magically inclined.”  
"So people with magic are really accepted?"  
"Oh yes! They're treated with quite some respect might I add though that might just be because they could turn them into a toad or give them purple worts all over their face mind you." He said jovially  
"I suppose so, it never occurred to me people lived with magic like that-it's been so long since it was like this here."  
"Someday it'll be like that again-you can't just get rid of magic lad. Magic is everywhere, magic is everything."  
They fell into silence after that, Merlin had never heard magic talked of in that way-like it was something normal. Even his mother had treated it like something terrifying that she had to put aside in order to love him. Gaius treated it like something to hide always. And Uther and Arthur...they treated it as an abomination. Merlin thought about what it would be like to not have to hide his power, to learn anything he wanted and not just what Gaius let him, he was so busy thinking about it that he hadn’t realised that they were almost at the kitchens. The kitchen maids had a lot of fun talking to George, he charmed them into giving him some extra food for Tom which the kitchen maids were more than happy to provide.

They spent a long time once they'd left the kitchens talking; well just Merlin asking questions which was more of an interrogation than a conversation. But he was curious and the thought of a place where he could be truly free felt like something he could only dream of. He spent the entire day lost in his thoughts of Ireland and what it would be like for him there. He knew he’d never get to go, what will his duties to Arthur but it was nice all the same. Not having to hide was something he wanted dearly. But every time he thought of leaving his destiny came to his mind and suddenly he felt very selfish. That's how it was for him, thinking of leaving, even getting so far as to packing his bags then getting overcome with guilt and self-hatred. The prophesy wasn't the only thing stopping him, Gaius and his mother, Gwen, even Arthur. All the people he knew and loved here. Giving all that up for the small chance to use magic freely, how selfish. But why couldn't he be selfish, everyone else was. Why is it that he could never do what he wanted? It ate away at Merlin, thinking about it, he wanted to go more than anything he'd ever wanted before. He went from thinking he should go to thinking he shouldn't and it went on like that for months until...


	3. Arthur gets into a fight and Merlin has an epiphany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters is kind of short but I wanted to get it out. Sorry for the delay, I kind of procrastinated, huh?

Arthur annoyed Merlin a lot but he was going to be the one to save Camelot so he had to look after him and make sure he didn't do something stupid like die which he was pretty close to doing now. The great big idiot had gone and gotten into fight in a tavern, Arthur was too noble for his own good really. They had hit Arthur over the head with a tankard before the fight could even start and took turns kicking him mercilessly. Merlin had thought of Arthur dying in a lot of ways but of all the deaths Merlin thought of that particular one had not occurred to him for some reason. The owner had managed to chase them off, but not before icing both Merlin and Arthur out onto the road. So Merlin was left sat there with Arthur dying in his arms outside of the Inn because no one wanted to risk helping them and be held responsible for killing the Prince.

So Arthur was lay there, dying and it was then that something amazing happened (and no, he didn't suddenly bring Arthur back to full health with the power of his magic) a doctor hurried over and tore Arthur away from where he was getting slightly crushed in Merlin's arms. Merlin knew he was a doctor because he had seen him before, whenever there was an ailment that not even Gaius could treat he was called for and suddenly Merlin knew that Arthur had to live. He also knew that Arthur would live without his help. That Arthur's calling in life was far greater than Merlin's and he would not be allowed to die before his time.  
"You are the Prince's manservant, correct?"  
"Yes-can you save him?" He asked worriedly, helping him lift Arthur up off the ground  
"Looking out for your neck?" The man was obviously trying to calm him down trough humour, it wasn't working  
"No! Of course not I just want him to live." Something in his voice tipped the man to Merlin's state so he tutted a bit before speaking  
"Alright, alright...I believe you. I have some things with me that can help him for now, though I will need to ride up to the Palace. It would be a great help if you rode up before me and told the knights about what happened so that they may tell the King." Arthur was lay in cart by then, the man was trying to send Merlin away. Merlin had enough sense left in him to obey him and ride off up the road. The rest of the night consisted of retelling the story of how Arthur managed to get hurt to a series of increasingly more drunk knights. The stress of the ordeal meant that he fell asleep late that night, or morning if you want to be technical. Though Arthur got the worse end of the bargain as he was to stay in bed for a week to rest. 

What with Arthur lay in bed it meant Merlin didn't have much in the way of manservant duties to do. Though Gaius saw to it he wasn't idle. He got him to organise all his book and sort through his herbs to which ones were rotten. Which gave Merlin a lot of time to think about the doctor finding Arthur at just the right time had left an impression on Merlin, he was a believer in fate. How could he not be? He thought about Ireland and what it would be like there for him, surely better than here where magic is despised. Unlike when he thought about it before there was no guilt at the thought of leaving everyone-only an excitement in his chest that left him giddy. It was then that he started forming a plan, a plan that would change the future in ways both unforeseen ad extraordinary.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to post a rather short chapter this time but I thought that would be better than having to keep you all waiting for another three weeks. I hope you enjoy it and ass always keep up the support. It is really encouraging.

Leaving Camelot unnoticed would be difficult, he was Arthur's manservant after all so he would have to wait for an opening, a feast or something of the like where he could sneak away. He was up to it though, he had to be. He tapped his thigh anxiously as he thought.  
Merlin didn't have long to think though because Gaius coughed from his seat across from him on the table before speaking.  
"While you were with Arthur I was looking through some of the older books in my possession. Though you won't actually use any of the spells the books contain it would be a good idea to know the theory."  
Gaius often gave him books to read with spells he couldn't use. Merlin thought it was unfair but never said anything-just thanked him and headed off to his room where he was sure he had put them. 

He was sat in bed reading one of the books. Most of it was to be expected, all about how to manipulate images in the beholders eye. There was one spell though, a spell that made people not notice you, as if invisible-even better was that he could put the spell on inanimate objects too. He could just charm a bag and he was good to go. He practised a lot with the spell, casting it on spoons and seeing if Gaius asked where they were before moving onto books, his bed and eventually himself. The spell was fairly easy and not one he had to keep a constant eye on which was a blessing, not that it wasn't taxing. He felt like he could keep the spell going long enough to escape the palace by the third week of practice but he was still terrified. If something went wrong he would be found out as a sorcerer. He was very fond of his neck, and the position his head was in relation to it.

Once Merlin had packed the bag he had charmed to the brim he went about double checking what he needed. It was thrilling to know was not only possible but that he was going to do it. He knew it would he difficult, he knew it would be painful. But he also knew it would be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hwlffordd is the Welsh name for a town better known as Haverfordwest.


	5. Merlin walks a long way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we Merlin in the odd phase after the thrill of leaving has left and the guilt has set in. I'm looking forward to writing about what happens next, I hope you guys are all looking forward to reading it just as much.

Despite how nervous Merlin was, he found it was easier to get out than he thought, no one was looking for magic residue, Uther's hatred of magic had long since made that seemingly unnecessary. He was outside the wall and didn't know which way to go, it was so different at night and looked an awful lot like the stories his mother told him when he was young. Even though he was petrified he was soon walking down the road, not really caring which direction he was going. He didn't let his invisibility spell down though, lest he be robbed for what little he had. As the animals rustled the bushes around him he remembered that all his mothers stories ended with death. 

He walked until he feet were sore before he finally stopped his march. He was thankful for the rest-he broke his fast with some cheese and bread; but the relative darkness and the rustling of leaves soon sent him on his way again. When the sun finally rose after what seemed like a lifetime it seemed to dispel all the fear and paranoia that had collected in the shadows during the night. It was then that he let the spell down. There was a sign next to the road, The Prancing Goblin, the Inn that Arthur nearly got killed in was less than a mile up the road if the barely legible sign was to be believed. If Merlin had been less tired his pride would stopped him from heading towards it but Merlin didn't have any pride at that moment. 

The sign had to be wrong Merlin thought to himself as he kicked his foot against the ground to get the blood running through his veins again 'I must have walked at least a hundred miles and it's no closer'. The walk to the Inn was slow and painful, the lack of sleep that night catching up with him, but he got there eventually, he'd never been so happy to smell old vomit and piss in his life. A niggling thought that he shouldn't go in there flashed through his mind, he considered his loyalty to Arthur. He was doing one of the most disloyal things a manservant could do, runaway and he was worried about going in an Inn? He opened the door.

The man Merlin recognised as the owner gruffly welcomed him "Not often we get people in at this time. It's the arse crack of dawn." Merlin didn't feel like talking but he knew better than to be rude so he just hummed politely. Soon enough he was sat down with a pint of mead in his hand a plate filled with food in front of him, the rest gave him time to think at last. It seemed to him that his plan had gone well. No guards were bursting into the Inn to look for him-the owner hadn't even recognised him. He allowed himself to feel a slight glee at having got away. Surely the hardest part was over now. The thought had also occurred to him that he had already been replaced but he felt horrible for being jealous when he was the one who ran away. The food, which been delicious up until that point began to taste bitter in his mouth. Merlin ate his food quickly and set off quickly, feeling the money that he spent on the food burning a hole in his satchel. He would have to find work or he wouldn't be able to afford the passage. 

He walked a long way that day, stopping occasionally to rest or eat. What had started out as an arduous but entertaining trek turned into pure boredom. There was only so many times you kick a rock to see how far it would go and he only knew so many folk songs by heart. It bored him right to his bones, he even missed Arthur's ridiculous drivel, at least that was entertaining. He frowned, and swore an oath as he kick yet another stone. It was going to be a long walk.


	6. Merlin is unlucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't posted recently, I honestly have gotten out of the habit of writing but I have outdone myself for this chapter. Instead of the usual six hundred words I managed to write nearly 1300. I'm proud of myself and I hope you enjoy it!

Merlin was right in that it was a long walk, though not nearly as boring or terrifying as that previous night's trek; because with morning came not only sunlight but all the birdsong and animal chatter that came with it. He shifted his bag from shoulder to shoulder as he thought about what his plans for getting to Hwlffordd were. It was then that he saw a sign poking out from the building saying 'The Crossroads' imaginatively named because it was indeed built by a crossroads. The Inn itself was set by the road in such a way that the sign, when walking towards it, was visible long before the Inn was because of the ivy covering the building; it looked welcoming enough though. The door creaked when he opened it and the man behind the bar who looked like he was going to collapse at any moment shouted back into the kitchen without saying a word to him. "Oh! A patron! Carwen there's a patron!" Whoever Carwen was she must have been less than happy that he was being so rude because two fingers shot up through the flap before disappearing again and the sound of pans clashing together was heard.  
"So, lad...what'll it be?"  
"Could I have whatever breakfast is cheapest and a pint of ale." He said nervously-rubbing his hands together  
"Coming right up lad." He said before yelling his order into the kitchen loudly. Merlin was starting to regret coming in but as all things do they calmed down and he was soon sat on a table at the back with his pie and ale. The pie was edible but it didn't last long so he was left with just his half-drunk ale. So he was sat sipping his ale and thinking about Camelot, it was foolish of him to think he could just leave, wouldn't miss it; no matter how much he wanted and needed to go. He didn't want to go back; more that he thought that if he was a better person he wouldn't have wanted to go. That he would do what he was meant to, he was human though and humans were never meant for destiny. Humans could never be meant for destiny and prophecy and the like-not when there was so much living to do, so many mistakes to be made. He finished his ale and set off again, his day and a half march meant he was nearly out of Camelot for better or for worse.

Camelot was relatively safe with the Knights there; they were reckless-how could they not be they we led by Prince Arthur-but what they lacked in experience they made up for in enthusiasm and they certainly didn't leave quarter for thieving. But Merlin wasn't in Camelot anymore which meant that the woods he was walking through we're unsafe and it was a matter of time before someone came upon him. That time was now it seemed as all of a sudden there was a not so much a yell as a battle cry and Merlin was tackled to the ground  
"Oi, give me your money or your life!" The crazed man shouted even though he was right next to his ear

Merlin considered using magic but decided against it, it would be incriminating if anyone was to find them; so just stopped struggling and let the man search him, not that there was much to be found, he quickly made of with his food and what little money he had, Merlin bit back tears of indication.  
"Good." The man muttered to himself as he rummaged. He searched him quickly before standing up his full height (6"3 if he was an inch or maybe it was because Merlin was still lay on the floor) and set his pinprick small and puddle brown eyes on Merlin. "You've been very 'understanding' but I got to rough you up a bit I'm afraid." the man grinned sardonically cracking his knuckles for effect and Merlin only had time to think about how no one really cracked their knuckles before punching someone before he was knocked out. If this was a story like he got told as a child Merlin would have defeated the man, or at least taken the beating like a true hero but this was not a story. This was real life and real life meant that Merlin let out a breathless scream before his vision faded to black and he began to drift from his body and into the land of dreams which is just as well, he wouldn't have wanted to be awake for what happened next.

When Merlin woke up his head was pounding, his eyes were swollen and his ribs ached; the man must have kicked him a few times after he had knocked him out. He swore as he sat up, not seeing his bag anywhere. He had even taken his shoes! Did he have any morals? Clearly not, Merlin thought as he became increasingly aware that he wasn't where he had been attacked, judging from the density of the undergrowth he was far way from any path. It was late evening and trying to walk anywhere would surely be bad for his mental and physical health. Getting mightily lost in the near complete shadows that made the trees and bushes look blurred so that they turned into one giant terrifying dark green mass writhing in the wind was not something he liked to do of an evening. Though neither was getting robbed and that had happened. Merlin huddled in on himself against the cold but it barely helped, he contemplated going to sleep but he was too jittery not to mention how dangerous it would be. He did fall asleep though, once even the pain wasn't enough to keep him awake.

Early the he next morning he woke up cold and in more-yet-less pain, not a good combination for his mood though the cold had numbed his body slightly taking the edge off his pain. He couldn't walk very far or very fast, his ribs while not broken or cracked to his knowledge were certainly bruised and he didn't know how to heal himself. Meaning that he couldn't take deep breaths without pain which made any sort of physical strain-and even the act of breathing itself-to be uncomfortable and painful. While he hadn't made much progress in terms of ground covered he had found the path again, quite a few people passed him on carts or on horseback but they payed him no mind except to glare at him in his rumpled and injured state. They probably assumed he was a vagrant. His immediate reaction was to deny it was true but when he gave it some thought he realised it was true. Not that excused the glares or the muttered insults. 

He managed walking better than he could have ever expected, it was mainly through a mixture of pain-numbing spells and a blackberry bush he found. It was lucky he found it, not that it eased his hunger more that it gave him something to think about. He hadn't been eating very well even when he had his supplies and he had been drinking whatever water found on leaves and the moss on branches. He was constantly lethargic so it was to be expected when he fainted.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, major case of writers block. I'll try and get a longer, more substantial one up soon.

After a few days of this scrounging whatever food and water he could off the trees and bushes on the path Merlin had never been so thirsty in his life, or at least never so thirsty without chance of having water. Whilst he has hungry too it wasn't all-encompassing like his thirst was. His head ached, rationally he knew it was because he was dehydrated but in his mind he thought it was because he was dying. That the further away from Camelot and by extension Arthur he was the more ill he'd become before dying. He didn't stop walking though because something in him told him if he stopped to rest for even a second he wouldn't get up again. 

Merlin's recollection of what happened cannot be counted on so let's just write what he knows to be true. He was walking for at least two days after he got robbed, he was suffering from starvation, dehydration and exhaustion-all of which made him weak. He fainted near a nameless village near the edge of Camelot sometime during the evening when all the people working in the farm came home for the night which was why they found him. They took him in and cared for him for three days after which he worked for them for two weeks repaying their kindness by helping them, they needed the help badly as the village had been ransacked recently. The working did him good it seemed because after the two weeks Merlin left feeling better than before, he then walked with renewed rigour toward Hwlffordd. He got there, not without difficulty but he got there. He spent longer in that town than he had hoped, he did a lot of jobs here and there for money but it's suffice to say that once he did get the money he left and didn't look back.


	8. Whatever is happening to Merlin?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin arrived in Wexford and things...happen.

Merlin had never sailed on a boat in his life so when he got on The Red Stallion to Wexford he threw up-violently; because of that he spent most of the time with his head over the side. The crew laughed at him but brought him water to drink which he was thankful for, his mouth tasted like a crime had been committed there. The journey seemed to last days but truthfully only last a few hours, the hours stretched into one another so he couldn't be sure how many there had been, four perhaps? Five?

The view of Wexford in the distance was heavenly, though that might just have been because he was currently being sick like a dog and the sight of new land promised beautiful terra firma. Half an hour after first seeing Ireland in the distance he was stumbling along the dock, the grin that contorted his significantly thinner face was all-encompassing. People milled about him speaking in a pleasantly incomprehensible hum, now he was here he hadn't got much of an idea of what to do, maybe someone would be able to speak Welsh...

It's suffice to say no one spoke Welsh, he tried asking people, and in a moment of frustration shouting, but it didn't help. People were looking at him oddly with good reason. He sniffled to himself and looked for somewhere to sit and feel sorry for himself. His tears had come and gone by the time and small hand pulled on his sleeve, he looked up to see a grubby face grinning at him in a half-mocking half-sympathetic smirk as he pulled again, more insistently this time. Merlin would have put up more of a fight except he couldn't argue with the boy verbally and hitting him seemed a little too aggressive, at least for the moment. He was dragged down the long road by the shore and up a rockier, windier one that lead to house. 

The house wasn't large but it was sturdily built in the hill, it looked like it was a house and something else because it had an extension built onto the side made out of completely different stone that looked much more recent than the rest of the building. He didn't have long to look at it though because the boy was dragging him along and up the path towards the house. Once at the door of the house the boy let go of his hand to slam both fists onto the door, making more noise than Merlin would have thought those tiny fists could produce. There was shuffling and a long silence before the door opened to reveal the most odd looking man Merlin had ever seen. He was barely four feet tall and was clothed in the most magnificent robes, shabby as they were. His face was wrinkled and smiling. He looked at Merlin for a few seconds appraisingly before talking to the boy. A short, heated conversation went by in the space of a minute or so before the man abruptly turned around rushed away. Merlin wasn't sure what to do but he didn't have to wonder long because the boy dragged him once again into the he's and Merlin was struck with the thought that this whole thing was very dangerous but something inside him told him not to worry so he just stumbled after the boy.

After what felt like an hour but could have been five minutes of silence as both he and the boy as at the massive table covered in scrolls and dust. Merlin wondered whether he was a physician because it reminded him of Gaius' disorderly table. Merlin winced, now was not the time to be thinking of home. The man came back with a vial of something probably disgusting. He didn't want to think about what was going to happen to him, but because he couldn't communicate with them he was at a bit of a loss. The man waved the vial about, gesturing him drink it, Merlin looked at him incredulously. He could not expect him to drink something suspicious like that from someone he didn't know after he had been dragged to his house. Because if he did then he was being a bigger idiot than Merlin was right now. The man obviously understood why Merlin was acting that way so he sighed look-sufferingly and took a sip of the potion himself. His face crumpled up like he'd tasted something sour before speaking...in Welsh.  
"Potion not bad, not die. Potion good, make talk." The man spoke with a heavy accent and his words were disjointed and childlike. "More potion, more talk."  
Logically Merlin knew that the man could have known Welsh the whole time and was using it to prove the legitimacy of the potion, the potion could be fine in small doses after all. He found the whole situation so ridiculous though, that they would supposedly go to all this trouble to kill him was quite frankly hilarious to him. He shook his head and chuckled in his mind, if they wanted him dead more power to them, he took the vial out of the man's hands downed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried my best to rationalise Merlin taking that potion...and following the boy, excuse my bad characterisation and shameless use of Deus Ex Machina on that count. I was trying very hard to get the story moving. And as always: kudos, comments and the like are very much appreciated.


	9. Gossip finds its way to Merlin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just shy of a thousand words which I'm proud of given my usual chapter length. Though I'm less than happy with transition from Merlin arriving at Conner's house and him hearing the gossip I had tried lots of other stuff and this was the best.

After he'd drunk the potion Merlin's mind spun into a whirlwind of chaos, every word and phrase he'd ever said or known was all of a sudden duplicated but in what Merlin knew to be Irish. His mind was full to bursting with new information, he laughed-giddy. He opened his eyes after a while and looked around him, the words were pushing their way to his tongue begging to be spoken. So he did, he looked around the room listing everything he saw in clumsy Irish; his voice got more confident as he went on though he did have an accent. 

The old man smiled a small smile at him and the boy laughed.  
"You talk funny." He sniggered into his sleeve  
"I could say the same thing." Merlin countered but the boy just laughed harder  
Now that Merlin could understand them he asked the questions that he had been wondering. He found out that the old man was the local Mage, he made potions for the population and cured any illness and injury he could though he was not trained in that field instead his expertise lay with nature. He could make plants grow and the fruit that they bore would be ripe and their seeds fertile. Once the man had heard about his training as a physician he asked Merlin to become his apprentice; he would teach Merlin magic in return for his services medically. 

That was how he spent months and years of his life. He worked for the old man, who was called Conner, and he grew very powerful. Which attracted attention all around, many people asked him to work for them but he declined. Much preferring to work with Conner. He had been doing the same thing, helping with whatever he could around Wexford, when news travelled from Camelot.  
"I thought you might want to know something I heard when I was at the market this morning." Conner said as he opened to the door with one hand and held a basket of various herbs in the other.  
"What is it?" Merlin looked up from his work  
"I heard that the king of Camelot, Uther, has died. People say the stress of ruling killed him. Though some people say it could have been an assassination-Gods know there are enough people with more than enough reason." Though Conner didn't seem like it he loved gossip so he grinned as he told Merlin about the details "So, lad, what do you think? Glad to be rid of the tyrant?"  
"I...don't know what to say really. I never liked him and I'm not sad he's dead but it's a shock. Though if I'm honest I'm glad Arthur will be ruling from now on. Hopefully it will be better for everyone." Merlin went about putting the stew in for lunch  
"Hopefully...though-and I don't mean to hurt you by saying this, I know you have a soft spot for the boy but I heard Arthur be referred to...less than favourably." Conner said, rubbing his hands together nervously-a habit he had developed when he got stiff joints a few years ago. He looked at Merlin who was looking at him expectantly, carrots in hand, before he carried on a bit more confidently "They were calling him Anduine* Arthur, and from what they told me about him the title is well deserved. He has been launching what could only be described as an manic amount of crusades on any magic users in the Kingdom and had been using his sway over Uther to get other Kingdoms to adopt the same ethics for six years now."  
"That can't be true, I-Arthur was not the person who would ever do that."  
"People change, Merlin."  
"You don't understand! Arthur can't be that person because the prophecy said that he was going to bring magic back to Camelot!" Merlin's anger faded and all that was left was sadness "I didn't mean to yell I just don't want it to be true."  
"Merlin, listen to me. While the rumours could be false I highly doubt it, people have been talking about this for while. I've heard it from more reputable sources than the town gossip. I've waited this long to tell you because I needed to know it was true, and because I didn't know how to tell you." As Conner talked in his innately non-threatening way of his Merlin was struck by how much he had changed, before he left Camelot he would have been furious that something was being kept from him but now he could see Conner's logic in not telling him. That wasn't to say Merlin wasn't angry-just not at Conner.  
"Has anyone ever said anything about why Arthur is doing this?" Merlin was good at using his innocent face and manner to his advantage and this time was no different. After a few flustered noises from Conner he spoke.  
"I have heard people say he did it because some magic users kidnapped someone close to him. Though I've heard people say lots of different people: one of his Knights, his secret servant lover or his manservant."  
"Secret servant lover? Manservant?" Merlin asked weakly, feeling faint at hearing both Gwen and himself referred to like that.  
"Oh! You were his manservant! I had completely forgotten. How insensitive of me." The old man rested his hand on his shoulder in an attempt of comfort. 

The conversation ended there but it was to be expected that it stayed in Merlin's mind, something deep in his gut told him that it was true. He had left six years ago, Arthur had started his quest to kill all magic users six years ago-hardly a coincidence. The thoughts of what his leaving could have done to Arthur by his leaving led him down a dark path that lead him to thought of betrayal and destiny. He didn't know what he was doing to do but it had to be something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Anduine means tyrant (I've looked it up in the Internet so as always I could wrong. Please correct me if I am) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this slightly longer instalment of Runaway and as always. Kudos, Comment and all that jazz! Thank you for reading this far.


	10. Asarlaí O'Draoi Arrives at Camelot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I haven't posted for a while, I hope you guys can forgive me and I also hope what I wrote makes up for it. Also Merlin's pseudonym is Asarlaí O'Draoi which as far as I can tell means Sorcerer son of wizard which I can imagine Merlin coming up with in a stressful situation.

The early morning light seemed to burst through the shabby curtains as though they weren't there which meant Merlin must have overslept. He groaned and tossed for a while before getting out of bed, he was putting his shoes on when he remembered what Conner had said to him. That Arthur, glorious, shining Arthur was now a tyrant. That was too much to contemplate let alone believe and that he was the cause of it was enough make him sick. Through an amount of effort he didn't know he had he went to talk to Conner without crying, though the tears burned his eyes and turned his vision into circles of light and colour. 

Connor's face was pulled tight around the mouth and eyes, he obviously didn't know how to talk to him though the talk was sorely and obviously needed. He gestured for Merlin to sit before sitting himself, visibly collecting himself. He coughed before speaking.  
"Something has to be done, Merlin, we both know it. You need to decide what happens. Whether you go to Camelot or not is up to you but you need to do something."  
"You've obviously thought about it, then." Merlin said uncomfortably  
"No more than you have, I'm sure." A long pause and then. "What are you going to do?"  
Merlin thought about it for a long time, his heart turned to coal in his chest "I don't know, what can I do? I left and whether that caused whatever he's doing now I don't know. But either way, what could I do?"  
"You know I can't decide that for you, however, I do think that for your sake if not his you need to go back." Merlin looked past Conner's head and out of the window, it would have been poetic if he could see the sea from that window but all he could see was his vegetable garden, but even that hurt his chest and made his heart speed up with cold dread.  
"I do, don't I?" He sighed and vaguely felt like crying  
"I really do think so." The conversation faded away after that. Merlin was grateful for the time to think.

The rest of the day passed how most days do when you're waiting for something awful to happen, with much pain and far too slowly. The next day they spent making half-hearted preparations for his trip. He thought about the difference between his two journeys, six years had passed and yet he feels the same dread but without the excitement of possibility this time. No youthful ignorance to shade him, only the harsh glow of reality. 

The trip back was painful but otherwise uneventful, no burly strangers robbing him, no guilt-inducing inns, he used his magic to made sure of that. And when he reached Camelot he excepted he would do something dramatic like sit and look at the castle walls for a while and cry or faint but he didn't, he just walked. He didn't know if that made him strong or just numb. He spent a day finding somewhere to stay and after wondering around looking for a room for rent and not finding any a guard who had been looking at him with unveiled suspicion asked him what he was doing. Merlin explained that he had just arrived and needed somewhere to stay, the guard asked him where he had come from and looked shocked when he said Ireland. Merlin was then quickly brought to the castle and presented to a stern-looking woman who asked him a lot of questions.  
"What's your name?" She asked glaring at him, daring him to lie.  
He thought for a moment but decided not to use his real name "Asarlaí O'Draoi." It wasn't his finest lie but he doubted anyone in Camelot spoke Irish so he was safe  
"Alright...um, I don't think anyone here will be able to pronounce that so you'll want to come up with a nickname or something."  
"Um....how about Emrys?"  
"That's alright I suppose, but now let's get on with it. I can't waste anymore of my time, I have things to do." He wanted to say something but he wasn't sure what to say, and he wasn't even sure if there was any point saying anything anyway. After his questioning he was told that his skill with medicine would be greatly useful and that they would find him when they wanted him, he was then marched out of the castle and left in the marketplace. Thankfully they had let him know of an inn that had rooms to let, it wasn't the nicest place but Merlin didn't much mind, he had bigger things to worry about.

He managed to find the inn they described to him after a lot of asking around, six years apparently meant he no longer knew where anything was. The inn itself wasn't well decorated on the outside but it wasn't crumbling, the inside was much the same. Not much to look at but it was enough for Merlin, it was better than sleeping outside after all.


	11. Arthur meets Emrys under extreme circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur breaks his leg, of course this is when he meets Merlin (or should I say Emrys) again. Can Arthur be helped? What is the true extent of his damage?

 

Merlin's second day at Camelot was much like the first with one exception, as he was walking about the marketplace trying to get reacquainted with the layout of the place he saw Gwen. She was older now but no less beautiful, she was holding a basket in one arm filled with various vegetables and she was walking purposefully across the square. For a moment Merlin thought she was walking towards him but he quickly realised that she wouldn't know him if she was face to face with him never mind across a crowded marketplace. A sudden sharp pain struck him in the middle of his chest, everyone had moved on just like he knew they would. That didn't matter though, he had a mission to complete: help Arthur in any way he can.

Over the next few days he sorted out where he would stay in Camelot and what he'd do for money. It turns out that medical knowledge was sorely needed just like that woman had said and he was soon put to good use, and as exciting and rewarding as it was he had come no closer to Arthur and to his mission. Merlin had no idea how he was going to get close to Arthur, honestly, but that particular problem was solved some two weeks later when Arthur fell off his horse while hunting and broke his leg. His usual healer was ill himself and so Merlin was called. 

Quite frankly Merlin was petrified. He knew logically that Arthur wouldn't recognise him, he'd taken great pains to insure that after all but the thought still lingered. Luckily for him though he hadn't had time to work himself up in to anxious frenzy because he was 'escorted' to the palace by the King's Guards and found himself face to face with the King in less than half an hour. 

The man Merlin had once known as his most trusted friend and brother was now a dark withdrawn man, though that could have been the pain. He was obviously drunk to help with it but it hadn't worked, he blinked up at Merlin blearily.  
"Who...?"  
"Uh, Emrys, Your Highness. I'm afraid I'll need to set your leg which won't be fun for either of us." Arthur laughed, full on laughed at what Merlin had said and he looked just as surprised by it as Merlin had. Merlin set his hastily grabbed equipment down with shaking hands and reached for Arthur's leg, as he was feeling it for the place of the break he got a chance to properly look at the man's face.  
He was still handsome, fair hair and an unmarked face but it held none of the happiness it had once had. He had a dark black aura about him, like someone had just died...Merlin coughed nervously and manipulated Arthur's leg to see how bad the break was. By the swearing and the Arthur's fist has narrowly missed Merlin's shoulder he judged it was very painful indeed and carefully set the leg down as he reached for the splint and bandages.  
"Your Highness, I need you to keep very still so I can wrap your leg up. It'll be tight and will hurt for a little while and will feel uncomfortable for longer still but that's how it's meant to be. As I said this will hurt so feel free to grab my shoulder as hard as you need to."  
"Of course, I'm the King aren't I? If I feel the need to hurt you rest assured I will." His ominous tone sent a wave of fear down Merlin's back.  
"Well, let's just hope you don't break my shoulder then. I don't think I'll be able to set my own." He chuckled nervously while the King just looked at him strangely.

It didn't take too long for Merlin to finish taking care of Arthur, it was strangely like old times. Merlin's hands on Arthur as it was seemingly meant to be but they didn't speak to each other and why should they? He was just Arthur's physician after all, he thought bitterly.  
"Emrys, you've done a good job with my leg, I feel much better." Arthur was drunk and delirious from the pain, or at least that was what Merlin was telling himself to excuse why Arthur was looking at him like that.  
"You can thank me when you're up walking again. Speaking of which, you'll need to have lots of bed rest-two weeks at least. But knowing you, you'll be up and about within the week." He smiled to himself.  
"Knowing me?! You claim to know me, do you?" A darkness washed over his features as his eyes darkened to the colour a stormy sea. "I may be your King but you do not know me, nor shall you ever know me. Now off with you, I expect you have other things to be doing rather than annoying your King."  
"Uh..." Merlin briefly considered apologising but decided to just leave instead "I-I'll leave right away, Your Highness." 

If Merlin had been able to see Arthur after the door to his chambers closed he would have seen the King sigh heavily and smack his head on the headboard muttering about manservants and physicians. But he hadn't and he just half-ran out of the palace fighting tears, to see his Arthur in that condition was horrifying and it wasn't the broken leg he was talking about either. He barely looked like the young prince he had once known, but instead looked disturbingly like Uther. 

That night Merlin lay awake thinking about just what he had done by leaving and how on Earth he was going to fix it, if he could fix it that is. Of course he could, he had seen Arthur's eyes light up for once brief second when Merlin made him laugh, if he could just do that maybe he could fix the King. Well, he thought to himself glumly as he turned over for the umpteenth time, it couldn't hurt to try, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand words this time! I can only hope this makes up for the terribly long wait for the update. If you like it, Kudos and all that. But comments are especially appreciated as I'm finding it hard to keep writing this story, it's very interesting to write put I have to pull each word kicking and screaming out from mind and onto the screen and maybe people kicking my arse into gear will help. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading and stick with me until the next update! :)


	12. Contacting Connor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only excuse I have for this is that I have started college and it's exhausting.

One of the few good things about Camelot nowadays was that it was very easy to find a place to live, cheap too considering a lot of people moved elsewhere. Merlin had been lucky enough to find a nice cottage on the outskirts of the city to live, it was covered in ivy and the garden leading up to it was covered in wildflowers and various herbs. Merlin had spent a great deal of time over the last few weeks setting up his herb garden, it was hard work but it took his mind off of his meeting with Arthur. Arthur was a different man to the young prince he had known before, a sadness seemed to haunt his face. He had promised to contact Conner as soon as he could and he had been putting it off but he couldn't do it anymore. 

He'd taken his time setting up his alter though, arranging the herbs and crystals in the correct way, after he had finished his preparations he started chanting a mighty chant. He hadn't ever tried it before and the force of it was shocking to him, it seemed to flow into the ground and across the sea, stretching miles and miles away from Camelot and all the way to his home. Merlin looked into the bowl of water and waited. He didn't have to wait long however as Connor's wizened face appeared soon enough.  
"It's about time you contacted me, Merlin. How have you been doing?"  
"I'm alright, I've settled in by now but I don't have any friends."  
"Oh, why not?"  
"Because I feel like I'm lying all the time."  
"That's because you are."  
"How is everyone? Good I hope." Merlin spluttered slightly   
At this Connor smiled "They're all wonderful, they miss you-but you knew that. The garden is doing well, but I have to rely a lot more on my magic without you to tend it."  
"So I take it the garden's missed me more than you have." Merlin chuckled   
"Well I did hear the ferns crying this morning." He chuckled, eyes glinting and Merlin smiled for the first time in days "You'll be okay, Merlin. You're a strong lad and fate has a way of working thing out no matter how hard we try to make things go otherwise."  
"Thank you, Connor...I'll let you get back to your work now." A pain tugged at his chest but he smiled anyway   
"Oh and Merlin! Make sure you don't go a week without contacting me again, I know I can't contact you for...obvious reasons but I will go all the way to Camelot to box your ears and don't think I won't."  
"I would never." Connor never failed to cheer him up.  
"Oh stop it. I take it you've got things to be doing, now go and do them."  
"Goodbye, Connor." 

He sat for a long time thinking about what Connor had said. If fate worked no matter how you tried to stop it then surely the solution to his problem with Arthur would make itself apparent. But then again, what exactly was his problem with Arthur? Obviously Arthur was turning out to be even more tyrannical than Uther with an angry streak a mile wide but how could he help? Especially since there was no way he could reveal his identity and his position in the court was practically non-existent. Well, there was one exception to that rule, as 'The Royal Physician's Physician' (whatever that meant) he was invited to every ball or large social occasion that was held by the court. Arthur, unsurprisingly, wasn't a very jolly king but luckily for Merlin he let his advisors hold balls as they saw fit as long as it wasn't more than twice a month.


End file.
